There are secrets within secrets hiding within this whole system of power. The Interface, Firmament, this whole idea of Threads, Concepts, and Talents. The boundaries between them are less distinct than the Interface would like me to believe. It's telling that Ahkelios is surprised by what we've learned, despite possessing the Concept of the Sword—he stares at the Interface window for a bit, puzzled. "I don't think I ever got any notice about Threads of Sharpness," he mutters. "Or Threads in general. Although I guess that explains two of those Inspirations." "You probably just managed to grasp the full Concept without needing to pick up all its Threads," I say. "It does mention that's possible. Depending on the practitioner." "So I'm a genius, is what you're saying." I snort. "Did you need the Interface to tell you that?" "I needed you to tell me that," Ahkelios says, a hint of smug satisfaction entering his voice. I just shake my head in response, hiding my grin. "Don't let it get to your head." Back to the point at hand. The Thread of Insight has shown up several times by now; the first few times, the Interface only said that I "touched a Thread". After that, it told me something about "gaining access to the Thread of Insight". Despite what the Interface has told me about Threads, though, it doesn't exactly feel like the Thread of Insight gives me any new information. It's not feeding ideas into my brain the way Inspect does. Instead, it feels more like it's just speeding up a natural process—like it's helping me make the right connections to come to a conclusion I would have anyway. "Just thinking," I say. "Give me a minute. I'm going to try something." The main problem right now is that I don't know how to intentionally activate the Thread of Insight. The Interface tells me that I've gained access to it, but activating it isn't as simple as activating a skill—there's no construct in my soul that allows me to manipulate it, nothing I can feed Firmament into to enhance. Even with my new understanding of Threads and Concepts, the new sense I gained from the fight with the Abstraction, and the Abstract Crown the Interface granted me, I have no idea where to begin. Nothing to it but to try, though. The Thread has always responded well to my intuition, so I figure I might as well keep doing exactly that. And right now, my intuition is telling me to meditate. To reduce external stimulation as much as I can and examine my core—try to see if I can identify this fourth-layer bottleneck. "Keep an eye on me, will you?" I say. "This might take me a while." Ahkelios and Guard blink, glancing at one another, but nod. "Don't take too long," he says. "We don't know when Naru's going to be done." I start by taking deep, slow breaths. I close my eyes and let the world around me fade away, going as far as to pull Firmament away from my eyes so I'm not even left with the pink nothingness of my eyelids. I let myself get used to that for a moment—not darkness, but nothingness. Ꞧ Then I focus on the noise around me. The sound of the wind, the crows, the gentle humming of Guard's systems. Drawing Firmament away from my ears leaves me without even the ringing I hear in perfect silence. I should do this more often. It's surprisingly peaceful. Next the smell of wet earth. Mari's cooking, rich and savory. The scent of the nearby forest, thankfully masked by the village's activities. It's not exactly pleasant. I acknowledge it, though, then let it fade until it's nothing more than the passage of air. Then the feeling of the log beneath me, scratching against my thighs. The weight and texture of my clothes against my skin. My Firmament withdraws until all that remains is the slowly-fading pulse of blood as it circulates through my body, until even that is nothing but a dull hum. Taste doesn't change much, though I pull my senses back from it anyway, just to complete the set. And last but not least... There's the Firmament sense that's accompanied me since almost the moment I started this journey. This one I can't just turn off—but I can turn it inward, focus the entirety of it on my core. With everything else shut down, I can sense the shape of my soul with startling clarity. I let myself soak it in for a long moment, feeling out the edges of what I've become and the choices I've made. It's fascinating. Everything I've done is inscribed in here in some small way, like a tapestry of decisions that map out the texture of my soul. I don't regret them. I don't think I can afford to. Whatever mistakes I may have made, they've shaped who I am today; all I can do is take that with me with every new step I take. That realization settles into me, and with it, a newfound clarity. I can feel the effect of the phase shifts. It's like a slight shift in perspective, and suddenly I can see the way each shift I've been through creates a new, foundational layer that builds up on everything I was before. The three I've been through work in concert to create what I can only name the bedrock of my soul. The foundation on which everything else is built. This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. It's the reason my Firmament has grown so much stronger, I realize. It's solid in a way it wasn't before. Three stages of synchronization with three layers of power has given my Firmament a presence and strength that's altogether missing from most of what I encounter in the wild. I pause, looking a bit closer at my Firmament and frowning mentally. And yet it's not quite there. It's about as close as it can get, certainly—right on the precipice of becoming something real and tangible—but it feels almost like there's something missing from it, something crucial it needs to be fully realized. This is it. The bottleneck that supposedly prevents a Trialgoer from achieving their fourth shift. Without completely solidifying the first three layers, the fourth can't be built, and whatever's missing here isn't something that can be overcome just by shoving more Firmament into it. I feel the Interface responding to this realization. It comes through like a ripple in my soul, originating from the part of me that's linked to it. I'm too deep in my soul to read whatever notification it just gave me, but I can guess what it says. [Thread of Insight activated!] Or something along those lines. I go back to studying the not-quite-solid bedrock sitting in my soul. It's hard to pinpoint what it's missing. For the most part, it just feels like there's some final ingredient that hasn't been added, something that's needed to transform this from "almost real" to just "real". The only question is: how do I use what he's given me now? Because I get the feeling it's important. Very, very important. Something the Integrators won't see coming, because it's something they don't know themselves. Four pillars and a foundation. Five in total. That number feels important. It's not the first time I've run into it. Five skill categories in the Interface. There's something about that. The Thread of Insight thrums, making connections, bringing up memories. It won't be quite the same as performing the fourth layer shift... but I think there's something I can do now. Something that will pave the way. The first three shifts required me to make decisions about who I am and who I want to be, but I don't think that's what this next one needs. Not a decision. A revelation. I've defined myself: now I need to define my relationship with the world around me, and to do that, I need to know the world around me. Easy enough. I'll begin by tearing apart a lie. Ahkelios stared at the Interface popups in front of Ethan, growing increasingly concerned. [WARNING: Strength overflow detected!] [WARNING: Durability overflow detected!] [WARNING: Reflex overflow detected!] [WARNING: Speed overflow detected!] What was Ethan doing in there?